decisions decisions

let your hand take mine
and run down to the beach
fingers trace a path across sand smudged skin
erasing pain by tender whorls

we sit
looking into the blue spirit level
as above so below
meeting equals of wind and water

sunglass covered souls
a swig of plastic water
lukewarm and technically sweet
when the air is sand and salt

we walk
maintaining the DMZ of proper conduct
very matter of fact
the ocean tugging on our free hands

like an excited kid
or elderly relative

a beach whisper tracing
our paths
sneaking out of frugal sandals
like a lifeline





Poetry by Katarina Wikholm
Read 260 times
Written on 2016-07-23 at 10:45

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A beautiful poem about a beautiful time

I especially loved the phrase sand smudged skin
2016-07-25


Bibek
Loved it! Loved the descriptions!!
2016-07-24